


Tons of Fun

by frogfarm



Series: Buffy Etcetera: (Shorts) By Request [10]
Category: Askewniverse, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-22
Updated: 2006-06-22
Packaged: 2019-01-30 06:32:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12648069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frogfarm/pseuds/frogfarm
Summary: Veronica missed all the action.





	Tons of Fun

**Author's Note:**

> Requested: Silent Bob/Faith with style.
> 
> Inspiration from the CLERKS 2 trailer.

Veronica's put up with a lot since she started going out with Dante. Sure, he's a great kisser; nothing to complain about between the sheets, or anywhere else. But even if his idea of a romantic dinner weren't the _supreme_ frozen pizza, even if his pitiful Quik-Stop salary could take her someplace halfway decent more than one night a year, true love only gets you so far. Not that he'd have remembered her birthday if she hadn't reminded him, and if he opens his mouth one more time about hers she plans on shoving his lasagna lunch in his face like a pie before making a calm, dignified exit. Then she thinks this stuff really is hot, could cause serious burns, and the guilt isn't quite enough to offset having the idea in the first place. And speaking of burned, is that _smoke_ , billowing out of the convenience store?

_What the fuck --_ The front door is smashed to pieces, glass almost gone from the frame.

She shields her eyes from the sting as she enters, coughs at the vile smell. The place is more of a wreck than usual; shelves overturned, bags of snacks trod on and ripped open. A low fizz emanates from the decrepit soda fountain, cracked almost in half, spewing a slow puddle of syrup onto the floor.

"Veronica?" She almost drops the lasagna, relaxing as she recognizes the apparition; Randal's his usual slovenly self, bad hair and all. Except more bruised and bloody than she's accustomed to.

"Where the hell is Dante? Because if he's off another one of his little mortician's dream dates --"

Randal holds up both hands with a pained look. "Right over there, watching the register. I wash my hands of it. Quite literally, thank you."

She peers suspiciously at said hands. "Do I _want_ to --"

"No." He grimaces, nods in Dante's direction. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a date with a bathtub full of bleach."

Veronica watches him limp away, casting another glance around the demolished room. Whatever happened here, something tells her it's coming out of her boyfriend's paycheck, the same something that's whispering phrases like _insurance nightmare_ and _indentured servitude_.

" -- I'm tellin' you, it just ain't fair!"

Also _congenital idiot_.

"Oh, Veronica! Thank God you're here!" And Dante does look glad to see her; yeah, he takes the lasagna first thing, but he actually sets it gingerly on the counter next to the cash register, turns back and envelops her in a hug, sweat and exhaustion coming off him in waves.

"See? What'd I tell ya?" Jay slumps against the counter, grabbing another pack of cigarettes. "Man, I should get a hug too --"

"No!" they both chorus, and burst into giggles. Veronica pulls away, cups a hand to his cheek.

"Baby, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Physically? In one piece." He shakes his head, surveying the wreckage with an air of resignation. "Can't say the same about this place."

"Time you looked for something better anyway." She tugs at him to sit. "Come on, you look starving. Tell me all about it while you eat."

Dante slaps Jay's hand away, jabs a plastic fork in his direction, and she thinks they're about to come to blows when the bathroom door on the far wall opens. Veronica reflexively looks over and the little druggie shit's fat friend is walking out, and she wouldn't look twice except he isn't wearing his overcoat, first time she's ever seen that. Plus there's this girl with him, or _woman_ and how; tall brunette in a tank top and jeans with a big relaxed smile, one arm slung around him like --

Dante's face is an exercise in patience. "Tell me you didn't break anything else in there?"

"No damage, Sparky." The brunette gives him a friendly grin, turning her attention back to her increasingly embarrassed paramour. "How about you? Those bandaids holdin' up?"

"Plebian motherfucker," Jay mutters under his breath. He falls silent when the stranger looks his way, stands up straight, but she's already ignoring him again.

"Serious. Got a little rough there." She chucks the blushing, bearded one under the chin. "You okay?"

He nods, half-looking at his disgusted partner, half at the floor. It seems to be enough.

"Take care, big guy." She flashes another smile, all pearly white in the dust and blood. "Don't let him jerk you around, huh?"

Veronica watches the woman leave, striding across the floor with her head held high like a conquering general. She turns to Dante with her hands on her hips.

"And who the fuck was _that_?"

Bob startles them all with a sigh, and they stare at him.

"One hell of a woman."


End file.
